Lira wandered through a cluster of workshops, each specializing in custom commissions rather than churning out the same predictable weapons or tools. This section of the district was known for its vehicle makers, artisans who took pride in building something unique for every customer.

  As she approached the counter, a craftsman looked up, his hands still dusted with sawdust. “How can I help you?” he asked, his tone open and professional.

  Lira drew in a steadying breath, smoothing the edge of her drawings before handing them over. “I’d like to commission a carriage,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of excitement she couldn’t quite hide. She placed a few detailed sketches and a neatly written list on the counter. “I’m hoping you can make this. To be honest, it’s not really my idea—I’m putting this together for someone special.”

  Her thoughts drifted to Katherine, whose stories of her world had included tales of strange, comfortable carriages used for camping. The design had been inspired entirely by Katherine’s remarks, and now, Lira hoped to bring a piece of that foreign comfort into their lives here. Buying the carriage was more than a practical gesture—it was meant as a gift. If Katherine passed her assessment, Lira sensed she would try to form a team of her own. For those long journeys between towns and cities, Lira wanted her friend to have something special, a place where she could find comfort on the road. The thought made Lira smile softly to herself, imagining the surprise and delight on Katherine’s face when she saw it for the first time. Maybe, for once, Katherine wouldn’t have to settle for sleeping on the hard ground. Lira also harbored a secret hope: that by making group travel cozier, Katherine would draw others in, forming lasting bonds along the way.

  The craftsman adjusted his glasses, scanning the documents with careful interest. “Any requirements or anything on the list that must be included?” he asked, lifting his gaze to meet hers.

  Lira leaned in, her finger tracing a line on the list. “Yes,” she confirmed, her tone turning earnest. “These are important.” She pointed out a section specifying compartments for familiars and spelled resistances to lightning and fire—precautions she knew Katherine would appreciate, given their unpredictable lives.

  As the craftsman studied her requests, Lira’s heart fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She found herself hoping, not just that the carriage would turn out right, but that it would show Katherine just how much she cared—how deeply she valued the strange, wonderful friendship they had built.

  …

  Katherine was dressed in grittier clothing than she preferred. She and her assessment group—excluding their proctors, who seemed confident in their abilities—were tasked with handling a handful of rodent-like creatures. Luna and Shade quickly became the stars of the hunt, impressing everyone with their skill.

  Katherine could feel herself having the time of her life. This was the first time she could remember Shade and Luna hunting together as mates. They had chased creatures in the enchanted forest conjured within her room before, but those illusions were never quite real—just shadows animated by the arrays, providing a distraction when boredom or restlessness struck. Now, out here, they were truly letting loose. For the first time, Katherine saw real joy in Shade as he hunted alongside Luna—clear signs that he was finally healing from the trauma caused by the lesser forest drake, the creature responsible for his scars.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  …

  Luna, a magical creature and Shade’s devoted mate, felt content. For once, Shade—the usually reserved feline—had chosen to hunt by her side, and Luna basked in his companionship. As she scanned the thinning supply of prey, her thoughts flicked to Shade’s reluctance to hunt. She understood both reasons intimately. The first was their human caretaker, Katherine, who always provided both Luna and Shade with nourishing meals. Katherine ensured they were well-fed and replenished with enough mana to hunt when they wished. Yet, Luna had grown increasingly dissatisfied with the size of their portions. Lately, as she’d begun to eat both her share and Shade’s, the meals felt less and less sufficient. I know I’m being greedy, I truly need more, she mused, knowing why her appetite was growing, but did not want to cause their human distress about her needs.

  The second reason was more complicated and painful. For Shade, every hunt was a mental reminder of his traumatic past. When Luna had first met him, Shade’s fur was brilliantly colored—so vivid it could never serve as camouflage. She’d been fascinated by his unique appearance. After they became mates, Katherine had used her magic to soften Shade’s colors, making him less visible and safer. It was then that Luna first glimpsed the scars hidden beneath his fur, a silent testament to the suffering he’d endured. Both the new coloring and those scars served as constant reminders of all he had survived.

  What is it, my mate? Shade’s voice brushed through her mind, gentle and curious.

  Oh, she’d been caught watching him. He always seemed to know when her attention lingered.

  Just waiting on the humans and the wild one, Luna replied, moving closer until her fur brushed his. She nuzzled him affectionately before licking the side of his face. His ear twitched, and a contented purr rumbled from his chest. He likes that, Luna observed, filing away the knowledge for another time.

  Despite her affection, Luna kept her displays of emotions subtle. She knew that the magical bond she shared with Katherine meant their feelings were intertwined, and she tried not to overwhelm their human with too much all at once. Recently, she’d been feeling off, and after the hunt, fatigue weighed heavily on her.

  Can you tell our human that I’m going home? I’m tired after the hunt, Luna asked Shade gently. With a last brush of her tail, she stepped away and slipped into the nearest shadow—a magical passage only their kind could use.

  The world shifted around her, and Luna emerged in Katherine’s room—a space her caretaker had adapted to suit her and Shade’s needs. Katherine had created an artificial forest, a comforting imitation of the wild suitable for magical felines like themselves. Luna padded quietly through the greenery to the secluded corner she’d claimed for her own, where she had built a cozy nest from spare blankets and bits of clothing she’d “borrowed” from around the room. Curling up, she let out a sigh, content as familiar scents surrounded her.

  She nestled in, a small stuffed creature cradled between her foreleg and cheek. The aches from the day’s hunt faded as her weight was taken off her paws, and a gentle purr vibrated in her chest.

  Drifting toward sleep, Luna became aware of a presence nearby—a voice, small and hesitant, tugged at her attention. “Th… that is mine,” stammered the young one, its tone timid but not quite fearful.

  “What do you want, little one?” Luna asked, her voice carrying a hint of annoyance as she opened one eye to inspect the interruption.

  The young one—a human child that Luna didn’t recognize—stood clutching a piece of fabric. Its cheeks were flushed, and its small hands gripped the cloth tightly, likely a comfort made by a parent. The child looked startled that Luna, the magical feline, had spoken to it at all.

  “That is mine,” the child repeated, voice gaining a little more confidence but still tinged with nerves. It pointed at the roughly feline-shaped toy Luna was now curled around, cradling protectively in her nest.

  “No, it is mine,” Luna replied firmly, curling her body closer around the toy. The child hesitated, seeming to sense it was unwise to push further. If their parent comes, we’ll see how this ends, Luna thought, already anticipating the next challenge in her day.